In Here, We Are Gods
by An Earth Without Maps
Summary: [pre 01] In 1995, four years before the DigiDestined arrive in the Digital World for the first time, an alleged bombing takes place at Highton View Terrace, Tokyo. But what really happened that fateful night? How could creatures of another world enter ours?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_A darkness deep with veins of ice_

_Will once ascend through flaming wall_

_One martyr pays the final price_

_Reclaim their crest, once and for all_

First, there was nothing but darkness. No light, no sound, no air. It was the calm before the inevitable storm, an ominous herald of both miracles and doom. But the world was yet asleep, dreaming its existence in all colours imaginable. Its dimensions still countless and its possibilities ripe with promise, the world was whole, and healthy. It was not yet a stage for the show of strength between the irreconcilable forces that are in eternal contrast and contest with each other.

_But oh, what bitter price to pay_

_For such short spell of tranquillity_

_Soon or late will come the day_

_That robs the world of its stability_

Moments or aeons passed, and in the darkness, something changed. As the gears were set in motion, eyes opened and breath was drawn. Life came into being, its manner authentically callow and beautiful. But this life came not without another, one that from its birth knew pain and hatred, red and hot burned into its countless souls. And as forces beyond comprehension awoke, their minds as one, they set to the only task worth their dreadful and tormented existence: sheer and utter destruction of all creatures of light.

_Falter not when hope seems lost_

_For others may yet see it done_

_Though tricks are turned and aces tossed_

_When day has dawned, the war is won_

Yet just as darkness beckons when life and light are in abundance, a glimmer of hope can be found when vile forces prevail. That hope was faint, though not through lack of strength, but through time and distance. In this moment, when everything hung in such fragile balance, only one thing was for certain: Hope would make a long journey to arrive where it was needed most.


	2. Going digital

**Chapter 1: Going digital**

"It's so good to have you here for this, Will," said Donald Jamison and let out a relieved sigh.

Will looked up from the cables at his father standing behind him. He seemed genuinely thankful. Will immediately felt a pang of guilt.

"It isn't a problem, really," he muttered and shifted his attention back to the electrical gadget he was trying to get to work. The Jamisons had decided to purchase a family computer, but due to a lack of technical skills, Will's father had waited for his eldest to come home during the summer holidays to connect the machine. All around Will lay wires, screw wrenches and parts of the computer's case his father had scattered about the floor.

"I don't know how you do it," Jamison senior went on, "I never know which cable connects what. They really do teach you something at that university, don't they?"

"I guess they do," Will answered rather automatically, his mind still on the task of determining which plug could possibly fit into the socket beneath the desk.

"Was this made for English sockets? I think we may need an adapter," he mused. His father scratched the back of his head and gave a bleak look.

"I honestly don't know." When he saw his son's frustrated face, he added, "I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you."

Will sighed and shook his head.

"It's alright, dad. I'll have a look in the garage."

* * *

><p>As soon as he opened the door, he was attacked. A rubber dart hit him in the head and stuck to his cheek, accompanied by loud cries of joy.<p>

"We got you, evil warlock!" yelled one of them. It was full of fervour and undoubtedly the voice of his little sister, Joanna.

"I thought you said he was a barbarian?" asked the other, equally high but clearly male. His brother and Joanna's twin, Michael.

"Did I? No, I didn't," decided Joanna, "He has to be a warlock. He can vanish."

"But I'm not afraid of magic," claimed Michael.

"Even if he turns you into a frog?" This made the ten-year-old think for a while.

"No," he replied, "Because if I was a frog, you'd be afraid of me."

As to be expected, the discussion soon turned heated when both started listing things the other was supposedly afraid of. Will pulled the dart from his cheek and threw it at his bickering siblings.

"Will you two be quiet for a moment?" he snapped and started looking through drawers. When he turned to look at the twins, they had stopped fighting and eyed him, Joanna defiantly, Michael on the verge of tears.

"Oh, come on. I just need to find something is all." That did not help much, but it made Joanna get up, reach out to her brother and drag him along into the house.

"I didn't mean that," shouted Will after them, but he knew he had forfeited their affections for the evening. He sighed again and opened the next drawer.

* * *

><p>About an hour later, Will leant back in the desk chair. The machine's humming sound and the light from the screen filled the room. He had successfully installed the operating system, hardware and basic programmes, but he felt tired from all the typing. The bright light from the screen burned in his eyes. He rubbed them and yawned loudly. Only now did he realize what a privilege it had been to use the computers at the university without having to do any of the maintenance. He felt as though he owed the IT guy an apology.<p>

A blinking on the computer screen captured his attention. The email programme had opened, seemingly by itself. At least he could not remember having opened it. There was no use, since he had not connected the computer to the internet yet. Just as well, the programme presented him with an email in the inbox. He knew this had to be an error.

"Dad?" he called, his eyes never leaving the screen. Maybe this was some kind of default email that showed up after the installation.

He clicked on the envelope symbol and opened it. Behind him, the door that had been ajar before was opened silently. On the screen, a bright and brilliant light started to shine. It became so bright that closing his eyes was not enough; he had to shield them with his hands. And suddenly, without a sound, the screen turned black and the room lay in darkness. The chair was empty, as if no one had sat in it.

* * *

><p>When he woke up, Will knew immediately that he was not in the study at home. He was lying on something soft, but it was not the threadbare carpet he knew. He moved his hands to make fists and felt small, warm grains trickle through the gaps between his fingers. Sand, he concluded. Was he at the beach? He could feel how slow his thoughts came. It was as if his mind was preoccupied by trying to wrap itself around an incomprehensible fact.<p>

"Will!" shouted a high-pitched voice. Probably Joanna, he thought.

He opened his eyes, saw blue sky overhead and sat up, looking around for his sister. But instead of a little, blond girl in a pink T-shirt, he saw a brown object fly towards him. As it came closer, he noticed that it was not flying, but rather jumping up and down—due to a lack of feet. It sported a strange, beige to brown hue of fur and three little horns on its head, but that was not what surprised Will. Directly beneath the horn, two round, black eyes locked with his.

"Will!" it cried again, exposing small, sharp teeth.

He raised his hands in front of his face to ward off the jumping creature and caught it mid-air.

"Will," it said, this time almost whispering, "I've waited so long for you."


	3. We are gods

**Chapter 2: We are gods**

_I haven't run any programs to estimate, but the church seems to be about 60% complete. I am almost done with the nave, but I need to remember to put in more pillars. Otherwise, the ceiling might come down. Oh well, what am I talking about? Of course it won't, because I haven't programmed it to do so, but what is it Kennedy always says? 'We're striving for authenticity.' A heavy ceiling like the one I have in mind would need more pillars to be supported, so that's what I'll take on next. _

_Estimation resulted in 82% completion for Overdell cemetery, and I have to admit: It looks just like home. I bet Overdell citizens couldn't even tell the difference, if they ever had the chance to see it. But of course they won't. We won't let them. We will never let anyone else in here, because this is our safe place._

_Out there we are as vulnerable and ordinary as everyone else, but in here, we are gods. There are no rules, no limits, no mistakes, unless we make them. And we don't. It's just us at the height of our collective imagination._

_Collective… what about unique? I know they don't like the idea, but I'd still prefer to have an area that was closed off, something of my own making. Since I've done most of File Island, I think it would be fair if Titus yielded the isle to me. Maybe I'll talk to James about it. She's the only one who understands that, even in the vastness of this place, it can get too crowded all too soon. Whatever her reasons, whatever her measures, she seems to have found a way to shut the other two out. I have to find out how she has done it. All I want is some peace. All I want…_

_Have some self-respect, for God's sake._

* * *

><p>"Hunter, have some self-respect. You're a grown man, for God's sake, not some little girl writing in her diary, are you?"<p>

Titus' dark voice echoed from the church walls. He knew he had not programmed any acoustic effects yet. He felt annoyed by it.

"About half done, are you?" determined Titus and looked around. "What about the ceiling?"

"Soon," Edward replied drily. He was a man of few words, but around his group's self-chosen leader, he became as laconic as ever. He closed the little notebook and tucked the pen into his front pocket.

Titus ran his index finger probingly along one of the wooden pews.

"So, tell me, why the church?"

Edward did not reply. He had worked with the man for long enough to know that he was not yet finished.

"Don't get me wrong, this is astoundingly good work for something so—how do I put it?—well, macabre. But I don't need to remind you of that place you did with James, do I? The one with the eggs and those fiercely protective mammal Digimon. I can't seem to recall the name."

He felt like letting him trail of, like letting him stand there in silence while they both pretended not to know the name, even though either one knew as well as the other. Titus had the annoying habit to forget the names of locations he had not collaborated on, and Edward did not feel like indulging him.

When a few seconds of silence had passed, Titus made a step towards him, seemingly to create familiarity and intimacy, but Hunter knew the motion to be threatening when he saw it.

"What was its name again, Hunter?" he asked, his face smiling, but his voice pressed and low.

Edward felt himself giving in to the pressure. John Titus was a dominant man, and if not a chosen leader, then at least one who would not allow others to question his authority.

"Primary Village," he answered, and felt as though a weight had fallen off him when the other man's expression turned from a forced grimace of a smile into a genuine one. It was a winner's smile, and Titus loved winning.

"Yes, that's it!" he cheered. Edward wondered why he sometimes felt the need to oppose Titus when it only made him more anxious.

"Anyway, I thought it was genius to have them respawn there once they're dead. And those little stone cribs—very cute. Your idea or hers?"

Edward needed a moment to think. Working with somebody else on a programming project meant a lot of entanglement of ideas without a strict division of labour. It could become hard to tell in retrospect who had done what, especially with a system like this. Suddenly, it came back to him.

"Neither," he responded, "That was the A.I."

Titus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really? That's interesting. You know, sometimes I wonder about what the A.I. does without us knowing."

"But that's the whole point of the A.I., isn't it? To create things not even we are aware of," stated Edward.

Titus seemed lost in thought.

"Yes, I suppose."

It only took him a moment to regain composure.

"Well, that's part of why I am here," he began. His tone had gotten serious again.

"I need your help. I suspect there's somebody in the system, someone else."

Now it was Edward's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Are you sure? Couldn't it just be the A.I.?"

Titus shook his head.

"It could, that's why I said it's a suspicion. But I have a feeling that it's not. I have a feeling somebody from the real world has found us."

Edward gave an involuntary gasp. He felt his heart starting to race. He couldn't bear the thought of others invading their world. He looked up through the open ceiling at the blue sky overhead. No, he would not let anyone come into his sanctuary. This was his safe place. He had to finish the church.

"Anyway, that's why I need your help—to find out who has gotten into our system."


	4. Survival of the fittest

**Chapter 3: Survival of the fittest**

Will stared at the little creature in his hands. Its strange face looked so expectant, its mouth spread in a wide smile, its dark eyes radiant. What had he gotten himself into?

"What are you?" he managed to ask, his mind reeling with questions.

"I'm Kokomon," it replied enthusiastically.

Will raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, Kokomon," he tried out the name, "But what are you exactly?"

Kokomon gave a giggle.

"I'm a Digimon."

"And where are we?"

"We are at Coela Beach."

Will felt none the wiser. This little creature, eager as it was, did not prove helpful at all. Whatever it said it was, he had never heard of such an animal. He put it to the ground carefully and got up to look around.

"What are you doing, Will?" asked Kokomon, looking up at him.

"I am trying to find a way out of here," he muttered.

The beach stretched as far as he could see, with what he thought to be an ocean to the one side and a thick line of trees to the other. Above the rich green treetops he could make out the peak of a mountain, somewhere farther from the coast. He turned around to see the same picture—but there was something else. Along this side of the beach stood rectangular boxes. Will could not tell whether they were small or just far away, but they seemed to be the only clue he had about this strange place. He started walking in their direction.

* * *

><p>Once he had realized what they were, Will started running towards the rectangular shapes. In his haste to reach the phone booths, he neither noticed Kokomon falling behind, nor that the sand around the booths had obviously been awhirl only a short time prior to his arrival.<p>

He checked his pockets for change, found none, but took the receiver anyway. He dialled the number of his home phone and waited.

"This number is currently unavailable," announced the recorded message and ended the call.

Will stood there for a moment, the receiver still in his hand. What had he done wrong? He looked around, his eyes finding the blue of the sea. Maybe, it dawned on him, maybe he was not at home anymore. Maybe he was somewhere else. And if he was, he needed to include the area code.

He tried again, and this time he sighed with relief when there was a ringing tone.

Kokomon emerged in his field of vision, slipping into the phone booth between his feet.

"What are you doing?"

Will put a finger to his lips.

"What does that mean?" asked Kokomon, its high-pitched voice drowning out the receiver.

"It means you need to be quiet," he snarled, concentrating on the sound from the plastic pressed against his ear.

The little creature looked hurt, but did as it was bid.

On the other end, his father picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello?" answered Will and felt a wave of relief wash over him. "This is Will. Dad, listen, I don't know where I am, but I need you to come and get me."

All he heard was static, and then his father's voice interrupted by more static.

"Yes—this—his dad—can get him if—want—in the study." Then, more distant than before, "Will—someone—phone for you. I think—friend—catch his name."

"No, dad, it's me!" Will shouted, hoping that raising his voice would make the message clearer. And it did.

"Will?" he heard his father ask on the other end of the line, and he felt his heart jump, but the feeling did not last long. Realizing that his father had no way of getting him out of wherever he was if he did not even know himself had slowly started to dawn on him.

"Will—are you? Where—your sister and—"

"Joanna and Michael? Are they not at home? Where are they, dad?"

"They are not—I could—their rooms. I thought—with you."

Will felt his mind start to reel at this realization. Somehow, he had managed to take his siblings with him, he was sure of it.

"Dad, I'll find them, and then I'll find a way home. Don't worry," he replied, his voice oddly flat. He hung up, ignoring his father's voice getting through the static in snippets. The thought of his younger siblings had put things into perspective. He stepped out of the phone booth. He had only taken a few steps when a soft sound made him stop.

"Will?" asked the shy voice at his feet, "Where are we going?"

He looked down at the little, brown creature, into its expectant eyes. He knew he had not been all too friendly. He squatted down and grasped the creature gently.

"Kokomon, is it?"

The creature nodded eagerly. "Yes?"

"Well, Kokomon, we are going to find my brother and sister. Are you in?"

The Digimon gave a wide smile, showing off its small, sharp teeth.

"I am in!"

* * *

><p>He was just about to pick up the little Digimon and carry it, when a noise from the forest made him stop dead in his motion. He was sure he had heard a voice, and a human voice at that.<p>

"What is it?" Kokomon wanted to know.

"I don't know. I think there's someone there."

Will took the creature into his arms and headed for the treeline. If there was somebody else in this strange place, he was determined to find them.

As his foot touched the sand-covered grass, a figure crashed through the undergrowth, passing him at a rapid pace. It was a boy, about his age, as far as Will could tell. His dark skin and wild, black hair contrasted with a bright orange headband. Will turned around to see the boy race on towards the beach, and had to chuckle when he saw that he was actually wearing sports clothing.

"Hey," he shouted, but the boy did not turn around. Instead, he seemed to recognize the phone booths, gasped, and ran off along the beach.

"What's with him?" Will asked himself loudly.

"I don't know," came the answer from Kokomon in his arms.

Will watched the boy run along the beach, his sneakers leaving deep footprints in the yellow sand.

"I guess we should follow him," Will mused and looked down at Kokomon. It nodded in agreement.

He started into a slow jog, following the footprints in the sand. They even had about the same shoe size, he noticed. On the horizon, he saw the boy as a small, black shape. He really was athletic to have gone so far in such a short time, Will thought.

Suddenly, he heard loud noises behind him. Something big hit the ground, causing a tremor he could feel in his feet. He turned around to see a large tree lying on the beach that had not been there moments ago; it had been cleanly cut in the middle, the other half of its stem still rooted at the line of trees. Then Will saw what had cut the tree: an oversized, bright red stag beetle with razor-sharp mandibles. And he started running.


	5. Irregularities

**Chapter 4: Irregularities**

"Fuck!"

Titus' voice echoed from the stones, across the sand and back to them. Edward had seldom seen him as agitated as he was now. He started walking around the Coliseum furiously.

"So what? We'll get them out, have this place to ourselves again. Why is he so angry?" whispered Leslie to his right.

Edward felt a drop of sweat trickling down his temple. It was scorching hot in the sun Titus had programmed to burn down onto the Coliseum, but Edward had to admit: The Roman structure's imitation was a wonder of the Digital World in its own right.

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place. Somebody screwed up," he whispered back to his colleague, who had taken out a tissue to dry her forehead of sweat.

As he leaned down to reach her ear, he noticed that she had chosen even poorer attire for their meeting. Leslie was dressed in a black turtleneck and cloth slacks of the same colour. She had to be burning up. He wondered whether Titus had an agenda when he chose these places.

His steps in the sand seemed to have calmed their leader. He returned, his face still flush with anger, but at least his voice restored to its dry and low tone.

"Now would be your turn to provide some input," he commanded, flashing irritated glances at them.

Kennedy took a step forward, eager to shine, as always.

"We find them, we bomb their base and smoke them out. Voilà," he proposed, an expectant smirk crossing his face.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" demanded Titus. Kennedy's smile faded.

"Sometimes I don't know why that boy is even with us," whispered Leslie. Edward remembered that Reed Kennedy was only a few years younger than her, but he knew what she meant when she called him 'boy'. Kennedy often behaved like a spoiled child. He was always looking for competition, always trying to find a way to best one of them. Only Titus as a figure of authority seemed to stand above Kennedy's petty jealousies.

"Well, it's easy. I'll come up with a little program to search irregularities. That way we'll have them in no time," suggested Kennedy, the sly smile back on his face.

Titus stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze remaining on the younger man, who stared back unwaveringly. A few seconds passed and Titus closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing over his face as if in defeat.

"I guess that'll do the trick," whispered Leslie. But Edward had known Titus long enough to know that his expression meant the exact opposite. It would not do at all.

Their leader had opened their eyes and stared at Kennedy with renewed annoyance.

"Are you really that stupid or are you trying to mess with me, Reed? How the fuck are we supposed to spot them when all the A.I. does is produce irregularities? We can't possibly look into every line of code that deviates from the original. It's impossible. The system's pretty much autonomous."

Within moments, Kennedy's smile had turned into a pout. He repeatedly dragged his right foot across the ground, scraping a line in the sand.

Titus took another minute of silence to let Kennedy's defeat take effect on them.

"Although we cannot search the whole system for just—well, anything, really—we can still find what we are looking for. We only need to know _what_ we are looking for," he explained, his eyes pausing a little longer on Kennedy than on the other two.

"And what is it we are looking for?" Edward asked, entering the conversation. Titus' eyes flicked over to him.

"The only thing neither we nor the A.I. have been able to produce. Digivolution."

* * *

><p>"Leslie, indulge me for a moment."<p>

She did as she was bid and followed Titus' wave. The other two had been dismissed and had returned to their task, but he had asked her to stay. She felt a drop of sweat run down towards her eyebrow, unsure whether it stemmed from the heat or Titus' intimidating presence.

But he smiled warmly, a rare sight these days. He took a step to close their distance and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Listen, you don't need to bother with this if you don't want to," he said, his tone almost paternal.

Leslie looked at his face for the first time in a long while and felt as though she had not seen him in years. How old was he now, she wondered. Taking their ten years of age difference into account, she estimated him to be in his early or mid-forties. About the age that Thomas would be.

She shook her head. "No, no, I want to. This is my world, too. You know how I've fought for this."

He nodded, his eyes searching the sand for memories. "I remember well. And do you remember," he said, his eyes finding hers again, "what I did for you?"

She cast her eyes down and let her head hang ever so slightly. "I do. You've helped me succeed in this industry. I wouldn't have made it without you, John. But more importantly, you've made me a part of this."

He put a finger under her chin, raising her head up again.

"Exactly. And do you remember what you promised me?"

She wanted to avert her eyes again, but found that she could not. His grip on her face was gentle, but his hand felt like steel to her. When she did not speak, he answered for her.

"You promised me you would rise to the challenge. You told me you were over it, didn't you? You said that I was right to trust in you, when they all laughed at you simply for being a woman," he reminded her, his voice angry but low. "But tell me, what has it gotten me?"

Tears had formed in her eyes. He saw that she was scared of him, but corrected the thought as it passed his mind—she was scared of what she thought he might find. With a sudden motion followed by a surprised scream from Leslie, he yanked down her sweater's neck, exposing her throat.

"So that's your newest diversion," he concluded. He let go of her.

"Out of all of you, I put my hopes in you, Leslie. But you've failed me. They were right: You're just some sentimental cow who breaks down every time she thinks of her long dead husband. It's been eight years; you've had your time to mourn. It's time to get your act together. Now get out of my sight."

"John, please," she pleaded, her voice unsteady, "I can explain. It's not—"

He gave her an icy look. "And destroy that abomination of yours, or I will."

With that, he left her standing in the middle of the Coliseum, her tears falling on the bright hot sand.


	6. CB004

**Chapter 5: CB_004**

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

The other boy was clearly upset with the whole situation. Will felt wrongly accused. How was he to know that shouting for the boy to wait would draw near another of those overgrown monsters? And even so, it had not been him who had emerged from the woods, dragging a giant beetle along behind him in the first place.

"If you know your way around here so well, you might want to tell me what we are going to do now," Will yelled back.

The boy, who, as Will had noticed when he had turned around, held a small creature just like Will's in his arms, looked around nervously.

"I say we head for the woods," he proposed and nodded towards the trees. Will noticed an American accent when he spoke. "The turtle seems to be water-based, and the trees might shield us from the bug long enough to get away. I say we run for it."

Will nodded. It seemed like a sensible plan, given their circumstances. Behind him hovered the giant, red beetle; behind the other boy an equally enormous, pink creature in a shell had emerged from the ocean, groaning loudly and furiously.

"We can fight, Will," sounded the high-pitched voice from his torso. He looked down to find Kokomon staring back defiantly.

"Let us help," chimed in the grey creature in the other boy's arms.

"You can't beat them, Bukamon. They'll crush you," cautioned the boy.

"Alright, I suggest we make for the trees when they—" Will began, but stopped short as he saw the other boy's expression turn from concern to horror.

A moment later, he noticed the change in sound from behind him. The beetle's steady hovering had become louder, and was gaining volume still. It charged.

"Now!" shouted the boy and they bolted for the trees.

* * *

><p>"I don't believe it."<p>

The man let himself sink back into the chair, his grey eyes fixed on the large screens lining the entirety of the wall.

"What is it?" asked a woman in a beige cloak who had approached silently. Her eyes searched the screen, but she could find nothing out of the ordinary. Here and there, a Digimon would appear in one of the cameras' ranges and move beyond again.

"Look," he whispered, his amazed expression not giving any hint as to what he was seeing.

She followed the man's gaze and her attention was captured by movements on a screen at the bottom, just above the controls. The small, white letters in the upper left corner read 'CB_004', indicating that the picture stemmed from Coela Beach. At the beach, Shellmon had started fighting with a Kuwagamon she knew resided in the nearby forest. Although the pictures on the screen were black and white, she immediately saw Kuwagamon's bright red colour in her mind, a warning to all foes and competitors. Both Digimon had shown to be territorial and aggressive when provoked, but she had never seen them in a fight. It was mostly due to the fact that Kuwagamon usually kept to its own premises, Beetle Land, a forested and green part of the island that was home to a lot of insect- and plant-type Digimon.

"What's Kuwagamon doing at the beach?" she wanted to know. "Something must have drawn it out of the forest."

She became impatient when he did not answer. "You are looking at Coela Beach oh-oh-four, too, aren't you?"

He snapped out of his trance, turning his head to look at the person standing next to his chair.

"Yes," he answered, "But you've got to look closer."

A few keystrokes later, he had selected CB_004 and zoomed in on the bottom of the recording. "Do you see it now?"

The camera was mounted on one of the treetops and directed towards the water. Anything that came from the forest would appear from the bottom of the screen, anything that came from the sea would do so from the top. And truly, as the zoom cut out the two fighting Digimon who had occupied the middle of the screen before, she could see what he saw. Two boys we running towards the woods, away from the fight, each of them clutching an In-Training Digimon in his arms.

"They've found them. They've digivolved and they've found them," the man declared, the amazed expression never leaving his face.

The woman smiled and nodded, feeling the same euphoria coming on.

"I'd say we've done our jobs then, Gennai."

* * *

><p>Will knew he could not keep up the other boy's pace much longer. As unwilling to admit it as he was, his new acquaintance was more of an athlete than he was. As far as he could tell, his lungs were near bursting, burning beneath his ribs. His arms felt numb. The longer they ran, the heavier he felt the little creature in his arms. Over the course of a few minutes it had gone from being light as a feather to a lead weight.<p>

"Stop," he yelled breathlessly.

The other boy switched to a slow jog and turned his head. "We can't stop yet," he warned.

But Will had stopped and now stood in the midst of the trees, trying to catch his breath. He shook his head weakly.

"I can't go on. We've gone far enough. Let's walk for a bit," he proposed.

The boy seemed conflicted.

"Alright," he finally agreed. "But only for a few minutes, okay? Kuwagamon's probably on our tail already."

Will raised an eyebrow. "Kuwagamon?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, Bukamon here told me," he said, pointing to the Digimon in his arms.

"Nice to meet you," squeaked the creature, exposing sharp little teeth just like Kokomon had done before. It made Will wonder what kind of creatures they were holding. Who said that the only dangerous beings in this strange place had to be as enormous as the ones on the beach?

"Hey." The other boy drew Will's attention back to the little Digimon, which had outstretched its hand in greeting—well, its fin, corrected Will mentally.

He shook it and the Digimon seemed pleased.

"Hello, Bukamon. I'm Will," he introduced himself.

"Dominic," said the boy.

"Kokomon!" piped Kokomon.

"You told me you were called Nick," protested Bukamon, looking up at its means of transport.

Dominic shrugged. "It's a short form."

"You're glowing," remarked Will.

He saw three heads turn to him, their expressions confused.

"I'm not kidding. You're literally glowing," he repeated, pointing to the other boy's leg.

And indeed, something in one of Dominic's front pockets shone so brightly, the light glowed through the fabric.

"Oh," he remembered, "Bukamon gave me those." He reached in and retrieved two greyish devices that reminded Will of the Tamagotchis his younger siblings had been crazy about only a short while ago.

He took one in his hand and left the other with Dominic. As soon as it touched his palm, the light that seemed to be emitted by the small, square screen intensified, blinding them both.

_Kokomon Digivolve to…_

_Bukamon Digivolve to…_

In his arms, the little creature was illuminated by the bright light from his hand. Will felt it shift and grow, this time actually becoming heavier.

_Lopmon!_

_Betamon!_

When the light subsided, both Will and Dominic stared down at the creatures in their arms. Kokomon and Bukamon had gone. Two entirely different creatures stared back at them.


	7. The path through the swamp

**Chapter 6: The path through the swamp**

As he typed, the structure started to take shape. Another few lines, and two brightly-coloured plastic horses sprung up from nothing, firmly fixed to the carousel on their metal poles. He took a moment to look at his creation. What else did amusement parks need? He had started with a Ferris wheel, had added rollercoasters and other attractions, and now he could not think of anything. How long had it been that he had last seen an actual funfair? He did not have children. He could not remember his last visit. But then again, his ex-wife probably would not have liked him hanging around carnies. Fuck her, he thought and started to write a picnic area.

About half an hour later, Titus leaned back in his chair and admired his work. He could only imagine how little the others had accomplished in the time it had taken him to program a whole amusement park, complete with rides, booths, food stands and sanitary facilities.

Hunter was probably still wasting time with that creepy graveyard of his. He wondered if that useless project had some sentimental value or if his colleague hid some kind of morbid sense of humour beneath his stoic façade.

And then there was Leslie, who had not programmed anything in weeks. The last time he had visited the mansion in the woods, she had not even bothered to put up its rich, illusory appearance. Instead, he had stepped into the ruins whose code lay beneath the mansion's, expecting the worst.

The only one who had exceeded his expectations so far had been Reed Kennedy, simply because Titus had not expected him to come up with anything useful. Kennedy had proven a high-maintenance and unnervingly persistent man, the epitome of a spoilt only child. But beneath his tiring airs and graces, Titus had been surprised to find an able, creative mind. Sure, Kennedy had installed all kinds of childish jokes, from refrigerators filled with eggs in Freezeland to hordes of small, green Digimon that threw their own faeces, but he had also shown enviable attention to detail with almost every bit of green that graced the landscape of both File Island and Server. Titus could barely admit his initial astonishment at the fact that these were two sides of the very same man.

In fact, something of Kennedy's own making now caught his eye. A figure had moved through the screen frame that corresponded with a camera at Geko Swamp. The vast wetlands had been named for the Digimon Kennedy had programmed to reside there, tadpole- and frog-like creatures with irritably loud and squawking voices—much like Kennedy's own, Titus noticed. He zoomed in on the picture, his mind moving from his colleague's shortcomings to a sort of dawning and dreadful comprehension. Whatever he was seeing, it was not a Digimon. He zoomed closer, until most of the marshes had disappeared from his view. He let out a gasp, and his suddenly numb hand fell from the keyboard, leaving the picture once again stationary. It was a woman, and not just any woman: It was his ex-wife. She had found him.

* * *

><p>A second glance revealed that it was not his ex-wife. After a moment of shock he had examined the screen once more and discovered that despite some similarities concerning Eleanor's brown, shoulder-length hair and light eyes, he was in fact looking at somebody he had never seen before. And she was much younger than Eleanor, he noticed, barely in her twenties. He gave a sigh of relief, but his eyes never left the screen. She had to be one of the hackers he suspected to have broken into their system. If he found a way to capture her, he could find a way to make the Digital World impenetrable from the outside. He was sure of it.<p>

* * *

><p>"Leah," cried the little girl.<p>

Leah turned around to find her with her foot deep in swamp water. She took a few paces, careful not to step beside the path as well, and extended her hand to the girl to pull her out. Back on the path, she started crying.

"I don't want to be here," she managed to complain between sobs. "I want to go home."

Leah nodded. "I know. Me too," she replied sympathetically. "We will get home one way or the other, I'm sure of it. You don't need to be afraid, Joanna."

The little girl wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I'm not."

Leah chuckled at her defiant resilience. Joanna was tougher than she looked.

"That's good. I think right now our best plan is to follow Tsunomon and Kyupimon, wherever those two are right now."

Her question was answered by high-pitched cries for help. A short distance ahead, their small guides had managed to veer off course and into swamp water. Joanna started to giggle at the sight of the two Digimon trying to escape the muddy water's pull, oblivious to the fact that she had been in a similar situation only moments before.

Leah knelt and grabbed the small, white Digimon that had clung to Joanna when she had met her and had introduced itself as Kyupimon. She handed the Digimon, which was squeaking gratefully, to Joanna, who was making similar sounds. Next, she pulled out Tsunomon, a ball of beige- to orange-coloured fur with a cute face and a horn on top. She had met the Digimon in the woods bordering the swamp, and it had not left her side since. Well, it had, but only to act as scout and explore what lay ahead.

"That was quite the success, wasn't it?" she teased.

Tsunomon looked down in shame. "I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help."

Leah laughed at the bashful creature. "No need to apologize," she soothed, "I'm just glad you two are safe."

"Do you know how we can get out of here?" asked Joanna, who was either petting Kyupimon or ridding its white fur of mud.

"No idea," squeaked the little white creature beneath her hands. If anything, Kyupimon seemed quite happy and unconcerned.

Tsunomon bowed its head—which was its body as well—and remained silent. Leah could read in its little face how useless it felt.

"It's okay," she reassured the Digimon. "We'll find a way. And I think these," she continued and pulled two grey devices from her pocket, "will help us with that."

Joanna grabbed one from Leah's hand to inspect it once more. She had been rather disappointed before when she had found out that it was not a Tamagotchi. Both girls gasped when all of a sudden white light erupted from their hands.

_Tsunomon Digivolve to… Elecmon!_

_Kyupimon Digivolve to… Lucemon!_


	8. Halloween contest

**Chapter 7: Halloween contest**

Edward took a deep breath of night air. It even smelled like the real thing, he noticed. Clean and fresh and somewhat cold against his skin, he knew the air was but an illusion in a world created as such. The only place where he forgot that fact was Overdell cemetery. He longed to go back there. But the task had to be done, he reminded himself, if he wanted that island for his own.

He made his way up to the collapsed building. Those ruins, just like everything in them, were of Leslie's making. She had told him that she needed them as a foundation for the rich and glorious mansion she was going to build on top, but when she had never finished the structure, he had started to wonder whether that was true. The illusory mansion's code Titus had laid above the ruins had been deactivated or taken out altogether, and a viewer emerging from the woods at the foot of the mountain was greeted by broken down stone walls surrounded by an air of decay. It dawned on him that Leslie might not have found an actual method to keep the other two out—at least not one that involved code.

When he reached the building's perimeter, he felt uneasy. There was rubble as well crashed down beams and blackened walls everywhere, but no embers or vermin, since the ruins had only ever been programmed to be a broken down structure made of stone and heavy wood, not to actually burn down. It seemed as though everything inside was in a state of everlasting decay, as if time had stopped just after the fictitious catastrophe had happened.

In he went, treading carefully where large beams had come down and shattered into pieces, raining countless splinters on the ground. Although the building would have been quite massive if it had been intact, parts of the ruins could not be reached, leaving only few choices for a path. The last thing he needed was having to search his way around in a maze.

A few minutes of wandering the ruins passed and Edward had not yet found his colleague. Maybe she had gone back to the real world, he considered as he came to a halt. But then again, he knew her to go home even less than he did. Maybe it was because both of them did not consider the real world 'home' anymore.

He looked around the room he was in. It was one of the better preserved ones, with more or less intact stone walls towering at three sides, one leading into an archway filled with rubble. He noticed that this was also a dead end to his route, with the only usable entrance to the room being the one he had come from. He was about to turn around and try out another of the few available paths, when something caught his eye. It was a kind of unevenness on the otherwise ordinary floor. He walked over to inspect it, finding a rectangular shape that seemed to be embedded in the ground. He felt over it. It was unlike the cold stone floors around it. Painted wood, he deducted, which had even been made to look like the rest of the ground. He felt over what he thought to be a kind of hatch for a handle, his fingers finally touching something that felt different. A little metal handle that had been painted like the rest of the contraption could be turned up. He pulled on it until the hatch gave way. It creaked softly as it opened and finally revealed a hole in the ground.

"Leslie?" he called out into the darkness.

* * *

><p>He knocked tentatively, the metal door hard and cold against his knuckles. He had found it at end of the corridor the hatch had led to. Now he was waiting in near darkness, the only light coming from faintly glowing runes on the walls. Neither of them knew what they meant; they had just started appearing when they had set the A.I. to work.<p>

"Who is it?" called Leslie's voice from inside, its sound muffled by the heavy metal door.

He stated his name. A moment of silence passed, then he heard shuffling on the other side. A lock was turned and the door was opened. The pale yet handsome face of Myotismon greeted him, its eyes glittering behind the mask it wore. Whenever he saw it, front covers of badly written novelettes about mythological creatures and women walking home alone in the dark sprung into his mind.

"Hello, Edward," it greeted him.

Its cold, clear voice reminded him that Myotismon was nowhere near a character in a bestseller for bored housewives. It was the first Ultimate level Digimon in the Digital World and one of the strongest at that. He still remembered the surprise and awe he had felt when Leslie had unveiled her newest creation, a Digimon that was the only one of its kind at that time. Sure, following Leslie's success with the new level of power, Titus and Kennedy had started creating many Ultimate Digimon, all of them scattered about the Digital World. Hell, Kennedy had even programmed one of the strongest ones as a mere joke, a singing ape-like Digimon that thought itself a celebrity and musical genius. But despite all their efforts, he knew Myotismon to be a thorn in their sides, simply because it had not been their idea.

The Digimon let him step into the room. It was dimly lit and smelled of scented candles, a paradise for an introvert misanthropist like Leslie. The woman in question sat on a richly ornate ottoman, looking at him with wide eyes. As his got used to the dimness, he noticed that she looked flushed, like somebody who had frantically cleaned up the worst of a mess before letting an unexpected guest in.

"What do you want?"

Even her voice sounded hoarse. He wondered why she was so hostile.

"I just want to talk, if that's alright with you," he answered.

"I don't really have the—"

"Remember the look on John's and Reed's faces when they saw him?" he interrupted her, nodding to Myotismon who had withdrawn to the corner.

Leslie's eyes flickered over to the Digimon and her expression softened slightly.

"John was so sure he had in the bag, with that black devil of his. Although, I do have to admit: I thought Devimon was quite impressive," he reminisced.

"And remember Kennedy presenting his Ogremon? It hit him on the head with that bone and just walked off into the sunset. He shouldn't have put so much of himself into that code, but I have to say, I found it hilarious. Serves him right to get a little dose of what we're dealing with every day," he went on.

Leslie gave a little laugh. He knew she would eventually warm up to him with that memory. It was hard not to feel a little spiteful when it came to small victories over their competitive colleagues.

"I mean, I knew I wouldn't win Kennedy's stupid Halloween contest with a bunch of Bakemon. To be honest, I didn't care. I just had them flying around Overdell, you know?"

Leslie nodded, the reminiscent smile still on her face, looking nowhere in particular.

"But when you called for Myotismon—that was something else. You could see that they didn't expect it. You showed them that day."

The woman's eyes had set back on the Digimon.

"I need you to go," she said, never looking at him. Her face had gone back to being an unreadable mask again. Edward stood in still surprise. He thought he had warmed her up to talk, and now she was throwing him out?

"Leslie, what—"

Long, pointed nails were placed gently on his chest.

"My mistress ordered for you to leave."

The Digimon's voice was calm, but Edward knew the threat that lay beneath.

He took a few steps back, then the heavy metal door snapped shut in front of his face. He stood in the darkness of the hallway again, hearing only his own breathing. He had come no further than before.


	9. Castle on a cliff

**Chapter 8: Castle on the cliff**

"I thought this swamp would never end," muttered Elecmon, shaking the muddy water off of its red-and-blue fur.

Over the last few minutes of walking, they had felt the ground become more and more solid beneath their feet, with bushes and small trees growing at the sides of the path. Ahead of them towered an impressively large structure which Joanna had excitedly proclaimed to be the castle of a princess. Leah realized that they had never even stopped to wonder whose castle this might actually be. What if they had just walked onto somebody's property unannounced and uninvited?

"And I bet she's pretty and sweet, and she'll have us for dinner," Joanna went on, her homesickness momentarily forgotten.

"I don't want to be anyone's dinner, not even that of a princess!" exclaimed Lucemon, its big, innocent eyes fixed on Joanna in shock.

"She's not going to eat us, dummy," she answered, "It means she will invite us for dinner."

"Oh," said Lucemon, scratching its blond curls. "You sure have strange expressions, Joanna."

To their initial surprise, both Digimon had started to change into seemingly stronger and more developed life forms as soon as the devices in Joanna's and Leah's hands had started glowing. Kyupimon had turned into a young, winged boy clad in white, flowing cloth. Apart from violet tattoos covering the whole of his body and gold bracelets on his wrists and ankles, he strongly reminded Leah of a little cupid, only lacking a bow and arrows. The bashful Tsunomon had turned into a bigger, mammal-like Digimon with bright red and blue fur that turned white on its belly, long rabbit-like ears and a forked tail.

"Speak for yourself. I knew that expression," Elecmon claimed haughtily.

"You do have changed, Tsunomon," Leah mused, watching the Digimon lead the way. It looked back at her, its former insecurity flashing up in its eyes for a short moment.

"Yeah, and it's Elecmon now," it corrected, and then quietly added, "Do you mind that I've changed?"

Leah felt as though much depended on her answer.

"Of course not, I just noticed is all. So when you—whatever it was you did just then—when you do that, you change your looks, your name and your character?"

Elecmon slightly tilted its head. "I think so. I've never done it before."

"Me neither," added Lucemon.

"So, Lucemon," Leah addressed their other companion, "are you a human now? You do look rather human, except for the wings."

Lucemon seemed confused by that notion. "I don't know. But I know I am a Digimon, if that helps. Can you be both?"

"I don't know, either," Leah admitted. What a strange place, she thought—and not for the first time since her arrival.

"Lucemon is an angel Digimon," Joanna informed them curtly.

* * *

><p>When the top of the castle had appeared out of the mist before them, Leah's heart had leaped in surprised joy. Where there was a structure built by people, even if it was so out of the ordinary like this castle, there were bound to be people around. So even if they showed up on a stranger's doorstep unannounced and uninvited, they could still hope to find somebody to show them the way home. With that in mind, she felt much easier wandering the wilderness with a little girl she barely knew and two strange creatures that possessed the ability to speak.<p>

Even the landscape became more inviting by the minute. They had gone from swamps that could hardly be called picturesque to solid earth and humble greenery that were now changing into drier ground lined with reeds. The air smelled fresh and salty. They had to be close to the ocean.

Soon, they saw waves rolling across a deep blue plane on the one side, sun-bleached rocks on the other and golden sand in between. On the cliff ahead towered the enormous building. Leah had never seen a castle such as this before. It did not look like the ones she knew; it had pointed roofs that curved inward. Asian architecture, she thought.

"There we are. Want to make the climb?" she asked her companions.

"I want to meet the princess!" cheered Joanna and started running along the beach towards the rocks. Lucemon flapped its little wings, trying to keep up with her.

"Is she always this, uh—" Elecmon wanted to know.

"Enthusiastic?" Leah suggested, "It seems that way. I've only met her today, too."

The Digimon looked up at her. "Then your world must be a big place. I'd like to see where you are from someday."

For some reason that remark stuck with her. She did not know why, but it made her see these creatures that called themselves Digimon in a whole other light. She realized she had underestimated them.

"Maybe you will. Let's catch up with the other two," she replied and started walking along the beach next to Elecmon.

* * *

><p>As if to cater to their convenience, somebody had bothered to carve steps into the rocks. They did not question it, since the stairs held their weight and were much safer than the climb would have been. Nonetheless, they were sweating and panting at the end of the last flight of steps. When they had recovered, they found a large, white door with ornate windows just below the arch stand between them and their possible way home.<p>

Leah knocked.

"Is somebody there?" Joanna called.

The door was opened promptly and they saw several heads turn to look at them—the intruders. Numerous pairs of bulging eyes stared unblinkingly; all of them belonging to frog-like creatures.

At the door stood a green frog with disproportionate eyes and a brass bugle around its neck next to an overgrown, blue tadpole with feet.

"What do you want?" squeaked the frog brusquely.

"We're terribly busy," added the tadpole.

The girls were taken aback by what lay behind the white door. Leah, because she had expected to find the homeowner; Joanna, because her dreams of a beautiful and kind princess had been burst like a bubble.

"As you were!" yelled the frog in front of them, and in a flash, the other frogs and tadpoles had started running again, the only ones standing still being those at the door.

Elecmon cleared its throat. "Listen, we are not from around here, and we've walked all day. We'd like to take a rest," it explained.

"Fine," shrugged the frog, "Do that. But not here." It was about to close the door, when a loud voice sounded from within the castle, resonating in the walls and floor.

"Do not send them away! This castle will be home to all weary travellers with a song in their heart!"

The frog opened the door in a hurry and waved them in.

"You heard him," it said when they did not move.

"Who is he?" Leah wanted to know. If they were to set foot into this strange place, she at least wanted to deal with somebody who could answer a few questions, not another frog.

"The owner of this castle," replied the green creature.

Leah and Joanna looked at each other, nodded and went in.


End file.
